


Incarnations

by orphan_account



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Multi, Multiple Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 23:58:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11588832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The various Rimmer and Lister incarnations across the different realities. Writing exercise. Published Anonymously for reasons.





	Incarnations

Lister lay on his back on his bunk, he took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air thoughtfully.  
"Hey, Rimmer?"

"Yes?" Rimmer grunted sleepily from the bottom bunk.

"Do you ever think about all those other versions of ourselves from parallel universes and so on? Do you ever wonder how they're getting on?"

"No," said Rimmer shortly. He pulled the blanket over his head and fell asleep.

Lister took another drag of his cigarette, staring at the roof of his bunk. "Well, I do," he remarked to nobody.

 

High Lister sat cross-legged among the cushions, strumming at the sitar in his lap. High Rimmer sat opposite him, an expression of pure tranquility on his face, lost in the music.

When the song had finished, Lister laid the instrument aside and smiled at his companion.  
"What did the song say to you, brother?"

"That there are many mysteries in the universe, some to be solved, some we can never solve," Rimmer smiled, the memory of the notes washing over him. "That wisdom is one of the greatest gifts that can be bestowed on us. And so is love." He leaned forward, his soft smile lighting his face. "And that you love me."

"I do indeed, Brother Rimmer," Lister smiled. 

Rimmer melted into Lister's embrace, literally. Lister's hand's clutched helplessly at thin air as his lover's intangible form sank into him, their limbs helplessly passing through each other. If only he could feel something from him, anything; a little warmth, maybe, but holograms gave off no body heat. He could feel nothing but the air.

Instead he felt for Rimmer's light bee and caught it gently between his hands, cupping it like a delicate flower. It had a little warmth, but only a little, being thermal insulated. Still, at least it was solid.

Rimmer extracted himself from Lister's body and sat back on his heels to look his lover sadly in the face. 

"I do so wish that I could touch you," Lister sighed.

"Me also, brother. But we must be grateful for what we have."

Lister reached out and held the palm of his hand where the illusion of his lover's face began, miming a gentle touch. Rimmer responded by kissing the air by Lister's fingertips, a painfully inadequate substitute.

They made love with their eyes, that was one thing that they could do.

 

Low Rimmer caressed the humming blue holowhip between his fingers and thumb and smiled unpleasantly down at Low Lister sprawled across the filthy deck.

"Had enough yet, my love?" he asked, in a mocking parody of affection.

Lister dragged himself up into a sitting position and sniggered his childish snigger. "Never!" he growled.

Rimmer walked slowly around him in a circle, letting the end of the whip trail lightly over his skin. "Touch yourself, my pet," he ordered. "I want to watch you."

Lister hissed between his rotting teeth as he grabbed for his aching, leaking cock.

Rimmer licked his lips as he watched. "Do you know what I want to do to you?"

"Yes," Lister replied. He mockingly passed one arm through the incorporeal form of Rimmer's legs. "But you can't, can you?" 

He laughed uproariously as Rimmer raised the holowhip again.

 

"Spanners!" Ace clapped his friend heartily on the shoulder. "Good to see you again." 

Spanners grinned. "Ace, man, good to have you back." He reached out and pulled the pilot into a friendly hug.

"How have you been, old pal? How's the wife and kids?"

"Great, man, great, things couldn't be better. How about you, how'd the mission go?" 

"You know, same old, same old," Ace dismissed easily, never one to boast of his own accomplishments.

Spanners remembered his own news. "Guess what? I got a promotion while you were away. Engineer, FIRST class now!"

"Marvelous!" Ace beamed. "Couldn't be more pleased for you, Spanners! Not that you don't deserve it, you are the best engineer I ever met."

Spanners grinned modestly. "Hey, how about we go out for a drink and a proper catch-up after work? If you're not doing anything, of course."

"Not at all. See you at eighteen hundred?" 

"It's a date!" 

Spanners set off down the corridor, humming happily to himself. He had to lean forward slightly to push his cart, giving Ace an excellent view of his firm backside in his tight overalls.

Ace would never dream of doing anything to break up a happy marriage, of course, but it was nice to just look.

 

Deb Lister sat on the edge of her bunk, swinging her legs.

Arlene Rimmer looked up from the book she was reading. "Can't you control those irritating offspring of yours instead of sitting there?"

"They're _twenty_ , Rimmer, they're not kids."

Rimmer sniffed. "They're noisy enough."

"And they're good boys," Lister added defensively. "They're not delinquents or anything, they're only playing football. You just don't like them, that's the only problem here."

Rimmer didn't reply.

"What's your real problem with them, Arly," Lister demanded. "Jealous?"

"Of what exactly?" Rimmer sniffed. "That I never mothered any offspring on some cheap, boozy tramp?"

"No, that I had kids with someone other than you," Lister grinned. "You'd rather have had mine yourself if that was physically possible, wouldn't you? Or maybe you'd prefer me to have had yours? That's more your way around, actually, isn't it?"

"Don't be utterly ridiculous, _Deborah_ ," Rimmer replied cooly and returned to her book. "I'm not even going to dignify that comment with an argument."

 

"How is he, Kryten?"

"I did the best I could, Sir," Kryten replied sadly, he indicated the completed preservation jar resting on the operating table before breaking down in tears again. "Such a tragedy!" he sobbed. "Such a senseless waste!"

Rimmer took a deep breath and forced himself to look at the brain within the jar, submerged in the nutrient-rich liquid and hooked up to electrodes.  
"Can we communicate with him?"

"That's what those electrodes are for, Sir," Kryten explained through his sobs. "They should translate his brainwave patterns into audible speech through the speakers, if I've..., done my job properly...," his voice failed him and he ran out into the corridor to continue his wailing elsewhere.

Rimmer crouched down to eye level with the jar. "Listy?" he tried. "Can you hear me?"

"Rimmer?" Lister's voice echoed from the attached speakers. "Is that you, man?"

"Yes, it's me. I'm here," Rimmer replied. He lightly rested his fingers on the cool glass surface, the closest he could now get to physical contact.  
It was so unfair, he'd finally regained the ability to touch and then Lister had lost his. Even the promise of the endless adventures that the time drive offered couldn't make up for that.

 

Captain Rimmer sat at his desk, sipping tea and lifted the next file from his in-tray. As he flipped it open, a pair of hands closed over his shoulders from behind.

"Hey, Squirrel," purred a familiar voice.

"Hello, David," the captain smiled.

"You feel tense," Lister remarked.

"A little stressed maybe."

"Maybe this'll help." Lister's fingers dug harder into the captain's skin, firmly working over the knots and aches in his shoulders. The captain relaxed back in his chair and sighed with contentment. No one could give a shoulder massage like Officer Lister.

One of Lister's hands left the captain's shoulder and slowly moved down over his chest, slipped under his jacket to caress his firm body through the fabric of his shirt.

Rimmer groaned appreciatively and turned his head as the first officer lent down to capture his lips in a soft kiss, his moustache tickling slightly. Rimmer closed his eyes and breathed the scent of Lister's cologne.

Lister let his hand slip down further, and further still, until it reached Rimmer's crotch and slowly dragged his palm over the bulge in the captain's trousers. Rimmer groaned again and pushed upwards into his lover's hand.

Lister pressed his lips to Rimmer's ear. "Early night?" he suggested.

"Hmmmm," the captain pretended to think. "Er..., Yes!" He stood up and let the grinning first officer take his hand and lead him into the bedroom.

The paperwork could wait until tomorrow.

 

Somewhere in the infinite parallel universes, the intertwined dimensions, the swirling vortex of the space-time continuum, the endless realm of endless possibilities, all these things happened. On Red Dwarf, Lister stubbed out his cigarette and rolled over to sleep.


End file.
